


Differential

by Scrivenger_Grimgar



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Anxiety, Assassination Attempt(s), Attempted Murder, Autistic Character, BAMF Hibari Kyouya, BAMF Kurokawa Hana, BAMF Sasagawa Kyouko, BAMF Sawada Nana, BAMF Sawada Tsunayoshi, BAMF Women, Betrayal, Biracial Character, Body Modification, Bullying, Curses, Different Vongola Guardians (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Dying Will Flames (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Families of Choice, Flame Harmonization (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Flame Lore (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Flame Sealing (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Found Family, Gen, Giving byakuran's wings a goddamn explanation, Giving the Vindice a goddamn family, Gun Violence, Human Experimentation, Hyper Intuition (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Kyouya being overconfident, Lesbians, Made Up Locations, Male-Female Friendship, Metaphors, Most of the Arcobaleno are only mention so far, Mukuro cares more than he wants to admit, Nicknames, Non-Chronological, Not Canon Compliant, Not In Chronological Order, Peer Abuse, Permanent Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Powerful Murder Children, Sawada Iemitsu Bashing, Sawada Iemitsu Being an Asshole, Sawada Iemitsu Being an Idiot, Sawada Iemitsu's A+ Parenting, Sawada Tsunayoshi Has ADHD, Scars, Several Fight Scenes, Several Headcanons Have Been Applied, Somehow, Unconventional Uses for Dying Will Flames, Warning: Estraneo, some smoking, tags are not in order
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27000073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrivenger_Grimgar/pseuds/Scrivenger_Grimgar
Summary: Sealing a Sky usually almost instantly cripples them, if it doesn't result in immediate death. Vongola Skies have something a little more though, and that Intuition is a funny little thing, almost alive but dependent. And It was just issued a death threat.Tsuna doesn't knowwhatthe Feeling is, but it helps him, so he doesn't quite mind.
Relationships: Bermuda von Veckenschtein & Original Character(s), Chrome Dokuro & Rokudou Mukuro, Hibari Kyouya & Kusakabe Tetsuya, Hibari Kyouya & Original Character(s), Hibari Kyouya & Sawada Tsunayoshi, Jaeger (Vindice) & Original Character(s), Joushima Ken & Kakimoto Chikusa & Rokudou Mukuro, Kurokawa Hana & Sawada Tsunayoshi, Rokudo Mukuro & Original Character(s), Sasagawa Kyouko & Sawada Tsunayoshi, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Everyone, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Original Character(s), Sawada Tsunayoshi & Vongola Tenth Generation Guardians, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Yamamoto Takeshi, Vindice (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!) & Original Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 251





	1. Hazy Sky

Tsuna looked up. There was a storm brewing. A tempest, cataclysm far greater than even he could Feel in his very bones. There was a tension in the air. Some kind of foreign energy. The people of Namimori could subconsciously feel it, making them uneasy, though practically unconsciously. Pulling friends and family closer, being defensive, near aggressive, to strangers. But to Tsuna, there were certain tell-tale signs that, when put together, made hardly any sense, even to him, the so-called “town crazy.”

It was the morbid rattle of chains, binding and crushing, pulling down, anchoring something. It was in the whip and whistle of the wind, tearing and turbulent in recent days. The smell of copper and iron, of blood and war, hung thickly in the back streets, a thin layer wafting over the more populated parkways; never quite leaving. It was the feeling of the desert sun, held high in the sky, unwavering and mighty, like an army of men, soldiers prepared for bathing in blood, in fury and death amidst the scorching savannah heat. 

It bothered Wrath, the general annoyed to death and back in the face of all the herbivores crowding. Bane couldn’t care less, for he was Hope’s last line of defense. But Wrath was pack, was family, forever would be, and so Bane worried when Wrath lashed out, snapping and biting at the herds of herbivores, flocking in fear of the future. 

Something was coming.


	2. Desert Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reborn is a tad bit upset

“Ciaossu.”

Reborn liked to think he was generally well prepared for everything. Of course, that was far from true, as no one could predict the future besides Luche and her kids, but he digressed. 

When Nono had asked him to tutor the next Vongola heir, his initial urge had been to decline. He was the world’s greatest Hitman, not a babysitter. Sure, he’d taught classes before, and sure, he tutored the Cavallone heir, but he had been paid rather handsomely on both occasions. However, he decided to hear Nono out. After all, Reborn owed his mother a favour, as much as he hated to admit it. The request itself was generic, but the details were interesting... Nono wanted Iemitsu’s kid to succeed him. A civilian of all people, but not only a civilian, a fifteen year old civilian, with near failing grades, no friends, who seemingly had a history of easy distraction, and a habit of speaking in riddles or making little to no sense. 

Of course, more than a few things in the report were bound to be wrong; it was, after all, composed by Iemitsu, who was the very definition of biased, considering the subject matter.

And then he arrives in the small town, Namimori, and promptly tears the “informational reports” into ribbons, and sets them alight. 

Reborn found, during his initial one week of scouting, that, no, young Tsunayoshi did indeed have friends, if of a very strange sort. First was one he actually lived with, one who he called “Bane,” whose name was actually Caijun von Veckenschtein. The second was Hibari Kyōya, who Tsuna called “Wrath,” who was distantly related to the Vongola Primo Cloud Guardian, Alaude,  _ and was also Fon’s nephew. _

Caijun reminded him of Fon and Mammon; he and Fon had the same build, light, thin, almost spidery, but powerful and flexible. Veckenschtein and Mammon were alike in that they liked to sit and quietly observe. However, he was very protective of Tsuna, unnaturally so, and it manifested in a very odd manner. What had initially surprised him though, was the boy’s unadulterated natural current of Lightning flames, simmering beneath his skin. He was always prepared for anything, but never tense or rigid, like electricity, finding the easiest, safest path and taking it; no wasted movement, no wasted energy, sharp and precise. 

Hibari reminded him of Colonello and Skull ( _ which _ , he thought,  _ is a very strange combination _ ). He was serious and calm, collected, the way he fought was not a technique he was taught, but rather, it appeared he simply moved the way he wanted, did what he felt was natural to him. He moved with purpose and intention, fighting to keep peace, fighting for fun. Preferring solitude, or his small group of close friends, avoiding most physical contact, speaking only when necessary, or when he wanted to. He gave the orders, and his underlings followed, never being ordered around, only asked favors by his pack. He was free and wild, tied only to those he wished. Violet cloud flames burned fiercely, so close to being active, lively and soulful. 

And Tsuna, himself, was quite the conundrum. His first thoughts were of Dino, and of how abysmal he had first been. But that wasn’t quite right. Tsuna’s eyes were hazy, clouded, and unfocused. He wasn’t all there a lot of the time, it seemed. Distracted. But he wasn’t helpless, as proven when a group of thugs went down by his hand.

When he was fighting, his eyes were sharp and clear, and his fighting style focused more on turning his opponent’s momentum and force against them, and dodging. The first to make up for his small stature and lack of strength, and the other to make use of it, it seemed. It was mostly hand to hand, flipping and off balancing his foes, until one of them screwed up, so he could strike at painful pressure points and weak spots to debilitate, carefully avoiding patterns that could kill, like a crushed trachea and punctured lungs. He wasn’t afraid to fight dirty either, throwing dirt or sand at their eyes, climbing high, using makeshift projectiles, razor blades, sharp rocks, used needles, wood, bricks, metal... it seemed self-made, to be adaptable, and to make up for his weaknesses. 

But outside of battle, he was different; he was soft, gentle, careful, and kind. Always smiling, or chatting aimlessly with himself, the air, Hibari, or Veckenschtein. Despite his distracted state of being, he often knew things that were fairly un-obvious or unclear, seeing not through a person, as he seemed to do, but into a person. Seeing their dreams and motivations. 

So, now that he felt he had a fairly clear idea of who he was dealing with, Reborn decided to get down to work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to be uploading the first three chapters because they're kinda short, save for the third, i think...  
> comments are very much appreciated and welcome!


	3. Lichtenburg Figures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsuna's lightning is mostly okay ~~(not really, but he's trying)~~

It could be said that Caijun had a fairly happy life. But really, anyone who would say that, obviously didn’t know who Caijun was, as the statement was a bland faced lie. 

It started pretty good, he supposed; he had a mother and a father, a grandfather, an uncle, and two aunts. He had three meals a day, and was quite well taken care of. Of course, Karma was very fond of their family, of their blood, and so was Fate. His birth had been a miracle, they’d told him, a miracle child. His mother had been targeted several times while she held him, and only once was she ever hurt. Right before going into labour, she was stabbed in the chest, a cesarean performed. That day, he lost his mother, but gained a life of his own. 

He was three when Karma struck once again. The day he met his uncle, his great-great-great grand uncle Bermuda, he was left with his grandfather, by his father who’d been called out to work. Grandpa Jaeger’s “brother,” Bermuda, who’d been cursed, had confirmed something that day. When he found the Sfragída Fterón, the mark of an old bloodline curse, Atychía Astrapís. The curse of a Sky upon his treasonous Lightning;  _ “For one love gained, Charon shall guide another, until ye returns to mine side. Azrael shall embrace ye for eternity.” _

It was the same curse that plagued Grandpa Jager. The same curse that struck down his father the very same day that he’d gained an Uncle. They never told Caijun how he died, he was too young for that, he was only three years old. His aunts took him in, cared for him like he was their own son. Until the curse once again decided he’d been given too much. 

Though, funnily enough, it was not his own curse that struck next, but grandpa Jager’s. His aunts, rather Manna and Mama had adopted a little girl when he turned eight. Grandpa Jager had been so very happy, just as he was when Caijun was born. Caijun was happy as well, a little sister, for him to protect, and cherish and love, like Mama and Manna, he could be useful now. Bai Jin was five, her name meaning “white gold,” and she harboured a strong Earth Flame. She was small, but strong and determined, learning German quickly, and often using her broken German-Chinese to ask about anything and everything. She was curious and stubborn and  _ wonderful _ ; Cajun loved her so dearly and deeply.

It was hardly a month later, on a family outing, when he was separated from Manna and Mama in the crowds of Munich, that he was kidnapped in broad daylight. They did not, surprisingly, want money; no they wanted a subject, a test subject. More specifically, they wanted a Veckenschtein. Rumors of the blood curse had always been around, but they were never very prominent. Caijun couldn’t even begin to guess why they’d chosen to take one of them  _ now _ of all times, but they did, and that was the only thing that mattered to him at that moment.

The Estraneo Familia were the world leader in biological advancements in the mafia world, performed many experiments that brought the family quite a bit of attention, even a few of the notable figures, like Verde of the Arcobaleno, watched them closely. Despite the careful consideration they were faced with, they kept their techniques well hidden. There was a reason for that. Unwilling human experimentation was already a class-five felony in the eyes of the Vindice, but the Abduction of Children from other Familias without Due Cause was settled at class-four if the children were returned unharmed.

Estraneo not only disregarded those laws, they kept the children indefinitely, using them as lab rats for experimentation, leaving many abductees to die in their containment cells, others exposed to deadly chemicals and diseases, with festering infections and misaligned bones. The “special” ones lived with physical mutations that caused physical pain and yet more were subjected to psychological torture or repeated memory manipulations. 

The Enstraneo’s lacking moral standards and restraint was what allowed them to push so far ahead in their field of expertise. 

Caijun’s cell was bland and dreary, greys on greys on greys, black iron bars making up the door, with blinding fluorescent white lights, with the back of the row of cells being made out of a thick glass. They were given a cot and blanket, and kept there more often than not. 

His cell-neighbour was a skinny purple haired boy around his own age, Mukuro. It was Estraneo’s first mistake, putting the two of them anywhere remotely close to each other. With nothing better to do, the two talked. 

Mukuro spoke of his dreams, finding his closest not-quite friends that he met in dreamscapes of his own creation; he spoke of his deaths, the paths he had to walk in order to return to himself, wading through abstract constructions with figures slowly crawling up his legs, how his surroundings shifted and faded in and out to some unknown rhythm as he dragged himself out of the abyssal wasteland. 

Caijun told Mukuro about his father and mother; about his aunts, how they were practically his third and fourth mothers. He told him of his Uncle and Grandpa, how kind and gentle they were; of his sister, wonderfully curious Bai Jin who’s heart was too big for her chest, a too kind soul that he loved far more than himself. He spoke of the family he was stolen away from.

Estraneo’s second, was forcing the both of them into True Flame Activity. Caijun’s Flames had been latent in his heart for almost all of his life, how he could feel them, so close to touching them, but always just out of reach. Mukuro was somewhat similar, but his multiple deaths afforded him the creation of small, mist-made objects. 

Mukuro’s sixth death was the catalyst for many,  _ many _ events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last one for today! hope you enjoyed that cliff hanger!! >;3c


	4. Grounded Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mukuro orchestrates a prison break  
> chikusa poisons several people  
> ken is **_S T R O N K_**  
>  caijun is given new legs

Mukuro had started planning his escape almost immediately after he’d gone Active. He had power now, the ability to make these cretins pay for their sins. Not only those sins that were forced onto him, but to the others he’d warmed up to in the past two years. Caijun, Chikusa, Ken, and his most distant connection, Nagi, were hurt,  _ were hurting, _ because of people like the White Coats. 

The countless injections that Chikusa had grown resigned to, no matter how much they pained and poisoned him, building his resistance only to give him something else entirely, or to up the dosage of the venom they gave him.

The endless genetic splicing that Ken was forced into, his body breaking down before rebuilding itself over and over and  _ over, _ never being able to rest, form becoming even more unstable; it required concentration to stay steady.

How Caijun’s body was desecrated, mangled, and then pieced back together with the wrong limbs, his body being modified again and again without consent, no matter how much he said he was indifferent to the changes; he was almost unrecognizable compared to how he appeared before, looking like some kind of frankenstein creature, stitches keeping his body together, the multiple test-tube limbs (for lack of a better word) giving him a rather inhuman silhouette.

Only being able to watch as Nagi was locked away in a barren room that barely constituted as belonging to her; to see her starved or pushed around for some perceived offence. Seeing her minders (not parents, not guardians, not even caretakers) watching her every move to find some fault in her behaviour, despite being the kindest person Mukuro had ever met.

The only thing he could do before was give encouragement and comfort from behind the bars, in the relative safety of his dreamscape. But now he could fight back, and the feeling was intensely euphoric. 

Once he’d completed his plan of escape, of vengeance, he told his friends the plan. They began the next night. Mukuro made the cameras flicker before going out entirely, and then Ken was bending the black iron bars of the door to his cell, moving quickly to Chikusa, then heading to the East Wing Containment from where they were in the West. Tearing the bars out appeared to be as easy as before, but he was looking to be losing stamina quickly, Ken dropping onto his ass after finally freeing Caijun.

Together, with Mukuro leading the charge, they snuck through the facilities of the Estraneo base, Chikusa killing any White Coat they came across, letting Mukuro conserve energy for the cameras, while Caijun helped Ken along through his exhaustion. Up several flights of stairs, and through several dozen probably-locked doors, they finally reached the first floor, stumbling through the door of a concrete box-thing and into a dense forest.

It was then that everything started going south; two people out of their four man team were edging on exhausted, Mukuro from keeping the cameras from catching them, Ken from bending the metal of their cell doors, while the other two were either sickly from being poisoned almost every day or uncoordinated on newly attached and unfamiliar limbs. Caijun’s ear, long and pointed, twitched back and he clumsily pivoted, shoving Ken behind him just in time for a gunshot to ring out through the quiet.

The man who’d shot at them, just barely missing Ken’s arm, stood at the doors of the underground facility they’d just left. He wasted no time, foregoing threats and outright attacking. The White Coat pulled the pin from the charge and threw at Caijun’s feet, giving them a satisfied grin, like he hadn’t just tossed a hand grenade at them. 

Caijun pushed Ken towards Chikusa and screamed  **_“RUN!”_ ** Mukuro watched in shock and awe as he spread his dull black-grey-green wings and used them to push them all back,  **_“GO! NOW!!”_ **

The explosive landed, detonating at Caijun’s feet, and Mukuro heard someone howl in agony, and he realized that that was  _ him _ screaming. His body moved on its own, hand reaching out to Caijun even as Ken pulled him up onto his shoulder, with Chikusa under his arm. They ran, Ken never let them look back, no matter how much they all wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL  
> u guys know that you can comment, right? i'd absolutely love the feedback, and make suggestions for scenarios, because _im not good at that_


	5. Static Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jesus, i posted the wrong chapter oop

Something sparked, and then his ears were ringing and hurting, and his eyes felt like they were being harvested off of his corpse. There was a stabbing in his stomach as he shook his head, the ringing receding surprisingly quickly, and though his eyes still ached, he could see now. The man, a White Coat as Mukuro called them, was similarly blinded, but he also seemed to be unaffected by the noise from the explosion.

This was his chance to run, he realized, but with his legs, their design strange and foreign, the ability to sprint still eluded him. He chose his only other option, he had to fly; it had been what felt like more than just two years since he’d been able to stretch his wings, even longer since he’d actually defied the gravity Bai Jin would command. But with no other choices, he pushed away the pain in his stomach, he flexed his wings, crouched and using everything he had, pushed off the ground. 

He managed after a few stuttering wing beats, and headed east as he fled through the skies. He flew as far as he could, fending exhaustion off everytime it threatened to take over, until he finally crashed. Not literally crashing into the ground, but rather passing out on the roof of a building after a rather sloppy landing attempt. When morning came around, he was hungry, stiff, bloody, in pain, and probably had some kind of infection. His “clothes” were just a tunic and loose pants, and not only had his wings torn up the back, likely by his lightning enhanced feathers, if his blurred memory was correct, but both the tunic and pants were scorched, torn, burned away entirely in some places.

He wouldn’t even be able to find new clothes, or even get food, as his appearance-- large dark wings, pointed ears, fangs and claws, misshapen legs and feet, stitches running over his face and neck, scars covering his arms and shoulders, his clothes burned, torn, and covered in blood, pale green-white hair, and bright magenta eyes --would no doubt draw attention to him. Hell, he didn’t even know where he was, he hadn’t been paying attention to landmarks or street signs. He didn’t think he even had enough energy to take off again, let alone to get somewhere with food, water, and shelter that he would be free to access.

He registered the sound of the door on the rooftop opening too late, and Caijun scrambled to get out of sight, before he was stopped. A gentle hand rested lightly on his shoulder, and when he looked up he was met with kind amber eyes, and fluffy brown hair. The boy was younger than him, he observed, as the boy dug something out of his pocket and handed it to him. It was a granola bar; Caijun took the snack hesitantly, opening the crinkly package, before taking a bite. 

There was a woman behind the boy, probably his mother, and he should really be far more worried about how calm he is when he was panicking only seconds ago. Instead, he welcomes the calm, and watches tiredly, as the boy turns to his probable-mother and asks something, he can’t even begin to make sense of what he’s hearing. He was still quite tired, only getting maybe four hours of sleep, if he was remembering the sun’s position correctly. 

The boy grasps his hand, and pulls him up and along, behind his probably-mother. His memory of how exactly they got to what seemed to be their house is lost in a haze of warmth-kind-home that the boy exudes. Ah, a sky, the boy is a sky, and a rather powerful one at that. But something about the feeling is almost muted, smothered under a layer of cold-still-hurt. It felt just plain wrong, and Caijun blearily promised to help  _ his sky. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 y'all're gonna fuckin loose it  
> i keep giving y'all cliffhangers.


	6. Cloudy Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kyoya fucks up. for real this time.

Hibari Kyōya was thirteen years old when he first met Sawada Tsunayoshi. 

“Hibari-san, Hibari-san!” 

At first, Kyōya was absolutely certain that he was a small annoying herbivore, like all the others, crowding and yelling, unknowing, unaware of the predator in their midst. But…

“Be wary of he who has bees in his ears who loiters in rats’ nests to the south.”

At the time, he hardly paid attention to the warning. 

Not a week later did he almost have his neck slit. The man fought with a knife. Kyōya found him in the south warehouse district, a common hang out for small time gang members, and the yakuza recruitment officers. He had a bee shaped earring hanging off his right ear.

( “Be wary of he who has bees in his ears, who loiters in rats’ nests to the south.” )

Kyōya was forced to investigate, lest his curiosity eat at him until he was nothing. 

“Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“Hibari-san.”

Kyōya paused for a moment, not feeling the building tension in the room as Sawada’s classmates stared freely, before turning on his heel, and sauntering out of the classroom. The herbivore-like-thing followed him out of the class, all the way to the first floor, to Kyōya’s office. 

“Sit.” And he did. 

“Bees in ears, south rats’ nest?”

“Yes, something would have happened, had you not heeded my warning.”

“Why?” Kyōya said, eyes narrowed. 

“You’re important.”

A single statement. Two words. But the unfaltering feeling, the resonating truth that rung free was astounding. Not many people knew. And most all of those who did were either yakuza, or part of the disciplinary committee. 

“How?”

“Intuition,” he said, Sawada’s eyes sharpened, nearing a caramel orange, rather than their normal chocolate haze. 

“Hn...” Kyōya sat, contemplatively, for a while, before they were interrupted from their thoughts by a knock on the door. 

“Kyo-san, there’s someone here to see you.” Tetsuya told him, before letting his visitor into the room. 

“Hibari-senpai,” his visitor greeted respectfully, though his eyes were narrowed, gazing suspiciously at Kyōya. 

“A’Jun!” Tsunayoshi greeted happily, eyes fading back to their previous unfocus. 

“Xiao Na, are you hurt? Why did Hibari-senpai take you?” The slight furrow of “A’Jun’s” brow and the light downturn of the corner of his lip were the only signs, other than his narrowed eyes, that the other was concerned. Kyōya gave Tetsuya a look, and he responded in kind, already being thoroughly versed in Hibari Mannerisms, “Caijun von Veckenschtein, enrolled two years ago; no current offenses listed, other than the occasional scuffle, in the process of defending Sawada from the more physically inclined bullies. Is rather academically inclined, but shies away from sports activities, and is rather anti- or a-social, interacting almost exclusively with Sawada.” Tetsuya looked over at the pair, Veckenschtein inspecting Sawada for injuries, and Sawada insisting he’s alright. “Health is fine, if discounting that he’s slightly underweight, and might have been operated on more than once without consent or a record of it being made, suspected due to the multiple surgical scars over his body. There’s another, larger, scar in the shape of a V on his back, and a scar that looks somewhat like shrapnel covering the entire front of his torso. Wears a medical band on his ankle for PTSD and Autism.”

“Hn,” Kyōya said, confirming that he’d been listening, before tilting his head towards Sawada.

“Sawada Tsunayoshi, enrolled since 1st grade, no offenses listed whatsoever, but is commonly the victim of bullies. Academically inclined, though it hardly shows as he’s easily distracted and can’t sit still. Not inclined to participate in sports, though has recently learned self defense. Outgoing and generally sociable, but people often believe he is talking nonsense and call him crazy or insane, leading to a poor social life; connections include Veckenschtein, and occasionally Kurokawa Hana, Sasagawa Kyōko, and Yamamoto Takeshi.” Tetsuya paused, before walking to rummage through the filing cabinet, pulling out a file, and walking back to Kyōya. 

“Health is... not the best.” He said, reading through the file, “Strangely underweight, several precariously healed cuts and scratches, poor eyesight and balance. Suspected attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, and general anxiety is more than probable. It’s a mix that probably creates his consistent tripping, bad-- if just passing --grades, and status as a social pariah.”

“Would you mind greatly if I said that I’m not very comfortable having all of my personal medical records aired and available to people whom I hardly know?”

Both Kyōya and Tetsuya looked towards the pair, who’d stopped to listen to what they were discussing. The question was asked in a vaguely defensive manner. 

“It’s ok, A’Jun, General Hibari is a very good general, very trustworthy.” Sawada told the taller, airily cheerful. 

The taller regarded him speculatively. “I guess we’ll see...”

_ Good, _ Kyōya thought; the herbivores were well aware that they could do nothing to stop him. 

And while Kyōya thought that that would be the end of their interaction, he was, in fact, incorrect.

Everyday, the small herbivore would greet him at the school gate, no matter how much he growled or glared or ignored him. And the other would do the same, following along with the smaller, greeting Kyōya at the gate and out on the town, even deferring to him on school grounds. He once would’ve thought the taller was weak for following someone like Sawada, for restricting himself by tying himself to someone weak, but there was something that made it different after their encounter. It was like he had just noticed something off, or rather, something was just revealed to him. Something he was blind to before.

Roughly a month after the encounter, Kyōya was patrolling Namimori when he heard a scuffle in a back alley, and quickly rushed to intervene. He did not think it was something that he could not handle; after all, he was the Demon Prefect of Namimori. 

It was something that he could not handle. 

There were five men and two women, all yakuza, or, he thought they were. 

One woman was short, and had long blond hair; the other had short black hair, and was taller. One of the men looked old, with white-grey hair; another was young, and had braided hair, which annoyed him to no end, simply reminding him of his jiu Fēng, his silly pacifist uncle. Another of the men had chocolate brown hair, and a set of brass knuckles; the other had sandy blond hair, cut emo style, hiding one eye behind his bangs, with a streak in dark blue. The last man was bald, and wore an orange bandana around his throat.

He swiftly took down two of the men in suits, one tonfa to the throat of the brunet; the other jammed into the bandana man’s spine, hard enough to tear his spinal cord, paralyzing him from the waist down, the gun from his hand was sent flying down the alley.

Guns? Kyōya thought, the yakuza never had guns before... sure they’d had knives, tasers, clubs, but never guns—

He was forced to draw his full attention back to the fight when two shots rang out; one bullet belted past his upper left arm, grazing his shoulder and drawing blood, the second embedded itself in his calf, not hitting anything major, but still dearly painful. Even with his injury, he didn’t slow down one bit, adrenalin drowning out his body’s screeching. 

The third one he took out was the blond woman wielding the gun. He struck the gun she was holding shakily with a swipe to the left, likely breaking both of her hands in the process, and then lashed at her knee while stepping on her foot, effectively breaking it.

Three down, four to go.

Another gunshot, this time only narrowly missing his hip; Kyōya locked onto the shooter, another man, and burst forward with unexpected speed, his mind barely registering a plume of cool purple flames around his calves. The man, taken aback as he was, was easily taken out with a strike to the temple. The last woman stepped forwards, and brandished her knives, alighted with bright red flames. 

_ Just like jiu Fēng, _ Kyōya thought. 


	7. Bloody Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the kids perform what amounts to a second jailbreak. i'm to suspect that this might become a theme.

“See, Xiao Na, it’s circumference equals pi times diameter, and area equals pi times radius squared.” Veckenschtein said, pointing to his work, “since radius is always half the diameter—”

Caijun was cut off when Tsuna stood abruptly from their table at Takesushi, spooking Takeshi, who was sitting with them as they worked together on their homework. The sudden movement knocked over a glass of water, which spilled across the surface, soaking Tsuna’s notebook. 

“We need to go to Kabeshin, the third warehouse to the left, right now.” Tsuna said, his eyes unusually clear, and glowing the colour of a bright orange sunset. 

Caijun’s eyes, usually a dark magenta, flashed bright green, “Heika…”

“Tsuna?” Takeshi asked, concerned. 

Caijun stood, and nodded, following Tsuna out of Takesushi; and quietly, concernedly, Takeshi followed, sneaking Shigure Kintoki out with him. 

They pushed through the restaurant, out the front door and down the street, feet a constant pitter-patter, and footsteps echoing behind them. Kabeshin was the warehouse district in the south of Namimori, across town, south-west from Takesushi, in the housing district, near Namichuu. It was fifteen minutes away, if you ran. So they did. 

When they reached their destination, Takeshi was quietly shocked. Following Tsuna, they climbed the fire escape, to the upper walk around, quietly padding up on bare feet. There, surrounded by boxes put together in a maze-like fashion, were an unconscious and bound Hibari, Kyōko, and Hana. 

Takeshi gasped, before slapping a hand over his mouth, when he realized that they were not alone. There were three unconscious men, all wearing black suits, laid down in a row, and a blond woman making pained noises, who laid next to them. The woman, and two of the men, had guns planted next to them, while the last man, a brunet, had a set of brass knuckles on his fists. Three additional people, a woman with short black hair and knives at her waist, a man who looked near sixty years with grey hair, and a young man, barely twenty, with a braid and bow staff.

“You were de lookout! You were supposed ta  _ look out _ ‘fer people who’d’a interrupted! You failed, and now ya’ve ta make up ‘fer it!” the old man yelled, chewing out the younger. The woman looked subtly exasperated at the pair of them, from where she sat on her wooden crate.

“Now see what ya could’a prevented if you’d’a ‘bin doin’ yer job? Cumin’s out ‘a commission permanently now! Dat kid paralyzed ‘im from de waist down! Curry might ‘ave lastin’ brain damage!” the man ranted, “Boad ‘a Fennel’s arms, an’ ‘er knee, are broken, an’ Ginger was bruised badly while takin’ ‘de cloud out!”

“I’m sorry, I messed up! I promise, it’ll never happen again!” the young man apologized profusely.

“Yer damn right, ‘it’ll never happen again,’ ‘cause now Cumin’s gonna be doin’ purely desk work! We’ll be stuck as paper pushers, too!”

“Alright, Juniper, I think you’ve done enough to poor Sorrel.” Ginger chided the old man. 

“ ‘Aight…” the old man, Juniper, grumbled. 

“ … What are we to do with the kids, though, Gin?” the young man, Sorrel, asked. 

“Well, they’re the kid’s prospective guardians, even if Captain Iemitsu has the bright idea that Sealing the kid will keep him away, it’s not gonna work.” She huffed and pulled out a cigar, lighting it with a bright red flame. “Especially now, since that lightning kid’s partially unsealed them, somehow, someway…” 

“Iemitsu’s an idiot,” Juniper scoffed, “Honestly, Sealin’ ‘is own son… we all know what Sealin’ a person’s flames does to ‘em.”

“It revokes those aspects of a person's personality,” Sorrel said softly, head down.

“We at least gotta thank the kid for what he’s doing. Though, Verde is gonna be a pain when he hears about him. A Lightning allowing a Sealed sky to use their flames…” Ginger said, wondrously, before the conversation faded to thoughtful silence. 

She let out a puff of smoke, and said, “I’m gonna go make sure we’ve haven’t been caught, so take care of ‘em, ‘aight, Juniper?”

“Ginger! Yer wounded! Sit down! I’ll go.”

“Awe, how sweet.~”

Juniper sighed, and headed out of the warehouse, unaware that they had indeed been found. 

Up, up, up in the rafters, three children sat. Two of them, eleven years old, and one thirteen. A few glances was all it took; after all, they had their chance now. 

Caijun moved, causing the chains wrapped around his arms to rankle ominously, the sound echoing throughout the building. He lets the temperature steadily drop, frosting the windows and turning puddles to layers of ice. Ginger and Sorrel are immediately at attention, for only one group of people use chains as a weapon, and for only they can create this effect.

(  _ Vindice _ , they thought. )

Takeshi watched as Caijun dropped down behind them, chains rattling as they bound Ginger, dragging her to her knees; his eyes flashed as he sent high electricity through the metal links. Ginger screamed, the lightning leaving jagged burns across her arms, the heated metal starting to contribute as well. 

Sorrel was caught off guard, and Takeshi used that moment, with the screeching covering his movements, to jump down behind him; quickly unsheathing Shigure Kintoki, bringing them to Sorrel’s neck, drawing blood, but refraining himself from carving deeper, despite Kintoki’s begging. 

Tsuna was the last one to fall in, swiftly and quietly going to Hibari, then to Kyōko and Hana. Hibari was unconscious still, a large bruise on his forehead was probably the reason, while Hana was groggily looking around, awoken by Ginger’s noise, and Kyōko had apparently been awake the entire time, melting her way through the metal handcuffs with a yellow flame. 

The handcuffs Tsuna took from Hibari and Hana were put to use on Ginger and Sorrel, and Caijun took the liberty to bind their legs. 

“What is going on…?” Hana asked confusedly. 

Kyōko looked over to her friend, her best friend, and sighed, “I’m not exactly sure either,” she said, looking to Tsuna. “I get that we were kidnapped, but I don’t know why…”

“A fault that may be mine, I’m afraid.” Tsuna said, feeling regretful, while helping Takeshi haul Hibari onto Caijun’s back. 

“Hm?” Hana squinted at him; she looked down and picked up the bow staff that Sorrel had left lying on the floor of the warehouse, before pocketing the brass knuckles the sleeping man had next to him. 

“It’s because we’re friends, I think.” He said reluctantly. 

Kyōko’s brow scrunched in confusion. “What would our being friends with you have to do with anything…?”

Tsuna looked sharply at Caijun, who shrugged, as much as he could with Hibari on his back, and said, “It’s your choice to tell them or not.”

Tsuna sighed, “Every so often, someone tries to make an attempt on my life.

It’s not the same people each time, but it’s getting more and more frequent, and people around me are starting to be targeted. 

The first one I can remember was when I was six, and a man in a black western suit tried to grab me off the street—” Kyōko gasps, a hand drawing over her mouth, and Hana glowers; Takeshi’s smile becomes a little more plastic. 

“—But luckily Hibari-san— Hibari Tian Wei, Kyōya’s mum —was there to stop them. It got better after I rescued A’Jun, but the instances are becoming more and more common. 

Thankfully A’Jun is teaching me how to protect myself so I’m not completely helpless.”

Takeshi, Hana and Kyōko were a little stunned. Tsuna wasn’t speaking in riddles. And then what he said sunk in. But before they could get a word out, Caijun spoke, “This is not the time nor place to be discussing things.”

Takeshi smiled brightly, distinctly fake if one knew where to look, “We can talk at Takesushi, in my room, if that’s alright?” He offered. 

Tsuna offered a subdued smile, and they headed out of the warehouse, taking care in ducking into and out of the back alleys, navigated by Caijun. They eventually found their way back to Takesushi, after a long walk in contemplative silence. When they arrived, Takeshi was given a pointed look from his father, and Takeshi could feel his perpetual smile turn into a grimace. They made it up to Takeshi’s room, before Caijun collapsed onto the tatami mats, Hibari following, the former breathing heavily. They all sat down in a circle. Hana was next to Kyōko, who was sitting on her knees. Tsuna was against the wall, Takeshi to his right, and Caijun to his left, Hibari still unconscious and leaning into Caijun’s shoulder. 

Tsuna sighed, and Takeshi noticed that his eyes were still unusually bright. 

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this written for like two years, and now i'm just going through and kind of editing and revising bits of it. there's seven chapters completed, and the beginning of the eighth, but i don't know where this is going _at all_ so like, keep that in mind maybe?


End file.
